Punchup at a Wedding
by ipsilon
Summary: A Luby eventplot device unceremoniously gatecrashed by an angsty Reela. Sorry, I meant to do fluff but it all went a bit 'Streetcar named Desire' towards the end


Disclaimer: One does not (that is to say, for legal reasons, I do not) own any of the characters or settings you see written about here. That pleasure belongs to (as far as I know) NBC. Lucky things. (Also the title of the fic comes from the Radiohead song of the same name.) 

Notes: I've tried to do many things with this fic and I think I've fallen short of the mark on most counts: I think its probably not enough of anything. Perhaps you'll see what I mean if you read it. Anyway, I've taken the liberty of ignoring the existence of characters currently featured in ER who are to my distaste (you might see who I mean) simply because its my fic (!) and I don't wish it to be '_infected'_ as it were. Actually thats probably a bit harsh but I just couldn't be bothered writing it in, and seeing as fanfic is, lets be honest, more about the writer than the content, I thought that was fair enough. Anyway I waffle...enjoy the fic...

(If you don't know what I'm talking about see the _Cranky Recaps_ website)

* * *

"_Punch-up at a wedding_"

Abbey gathered the silky off-white skirt of her dress and fell back, flushed with laughing, onto one of the chairs at the side of the dancefloor. She grinned up, eyes twinkling, at the tall dark haired man looking down at her. Her new husband, she thought to herself, as a happy shiver ran up her spine.

"This is more like it." chuckled Luka, sitting on the edge of a seat next to his bride. He pulled the chair around so that it was angled more towards her and clasped her hands. "This is exactly what I pictured. You, me having a great time...100 of our closest friends and colleagues..." he grinned, and they fell about laughing, even though it wasn't really that funny.

"Yeah is that the guy who delivers the candy machine refills over there? Did you invite him? Because I have to say, I've never spoken two words to him in my life!"

"Oh yeah me and candy guy go way back," Luka joked trying to keep a straight face.

"If you say so..." she laughed pecking him on the lips, before bowing her head again to laugh some more.

"I'll get us some of those champagne cocktails," said Luka getting up.

"Thats what I'm talking about. Now I remember why I married you!" she grinned.

Just then Chuny approached as Luka stalked off. She took a seat next to Abbey, who leaned back in her chair facing away from Luka to greet her colleague. She patted Abbey's arm, and kissed her cheek.

"Hey sweetie. I just thought I'd let you know how happy I am for you guys."

"Oh Chuny don't be silly," smiled Abbey coyly: she was a little embarassed by this kind of thing.

"No, Abbey, let me say it, I know alot of the nurses might have colded you out a bit when you went up the ranks, but its you having the last laugh now and I'm proud of you." They shared a tipsy hug and Chuny made a lascivious nodding gesture over her shoulder at Abbey's other half.

"You've sure done nicely for yourself with that one," she said wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. Abbey blushed and rolled her eyes, laughing. The two leaned back in their chairs to survey the revellers.

"Well I'm just glad everyone's having a great time," said Abbey seriously.

"I'll say that again," quipped Chuny, a gossipy tone in her voice. "I'd say one or two of your bridesmaids are really taking that old adage of letting your hair down quite seriously."

"What you mean Susan?" asked Abbey. "I'm so glad she could come, aren't you. I forgot how rambunctious she gets when she's drunk, its pure entertainment," she laughed, taking in the sight of the curvy blonde who seemed to be in the middle of giving her partner an animated telling off for swinging their child around in circles so soon after the reception meal, much to the embarassment of the other people at the table.

"You're not wrong there," Chuny snorted. "But I was actually talking about someone else...one Doctor Neela Rasgotra," she intoned, pointing in the direction of the bar.

Abbey sat up in her chair following Chuny's gaze, her eyes widening in disbelief. The petite Punjabi girl was sat bouncing on the knees of a South-Asian looking man she didn't recognise, all the while chatting merrily to Maneesh the surgeon who was looking at her amusedly. A third man seemed to be plying her with drinks. The dark shining hair, that Abbey and so many of the nurses had envied, was no longer in the 'up-do' into which it was fashioned a few hours ago, but spilling down the back of her dark blue bridesmaid's gown, of which the capped sleeve was drooping revealingly. She looked beautiful like that of course, Abbey noted, but to an outsider this 'look' might well appear more than a little 'loose'. She hoped that the men would not get the wrong idea about her friend.

"That girl oughtta watch out," said Chuny disapprovingly, offering Abbey a cigarette.

Abbey shook her head and took one, pushing her worries about Neela out of her head. She lit her cigarette against Chuny's and inhaled.

"I say let her be. Kid's earned a bit of a break, she's had alot to deal with," said Abbey with a bit of a sigh, and hoped that this would be the last time this evening that people expressed their 'concern' to her over Neela's admittedly out-of-character antics. She couldn't say that she one hundred percent agreed with Neela's coping mechanisms, but then who was she to judge? Abbey had never been much of a one for talking about others behind their backs: that kind of thing was a little tacky.

Luka plonked himself back down next to Abbey and looked at her long and hard as he noticed her smoking. Smiling with the air of a schoolmaster who had just found a kid playing yoyo under the desk during class, he plucked the cigarette from her fingers, stubbed it out and before she could complain, replaced it with a champagne flute. Abbey rolled her eyes. The cigarette thing was a battle she was never going to win, so she kept quiet about it. She begrudgingly took a gulp of champagne and looked away from him, a little pissed-off, but happy that he'd come as a distraction to the conversation she knew she was about to have.

"Gossiping ladies?" Inquired Kovac, and Abbey shrugged uncomfortably. Chuny however put down her drink and turned to face Abbey, ignoring Luka's remark.

"You know Abbey, she's your friend and you need to have a word with her. She can't carry on like this."

"Can she not? Let me ask you this," started Abbey, prickling as she straightened up in her chair, "what is it with other women and their inability to sit and watch real modern women doing the things that modern women are supposed to do?" She looked at Chuny challengingly. "Neela's a big girl and she's having a little fun." She took a large swill of her champagne as if to punctuate her point. "So freaking what? She can do what she wants. I would if I were her age!"

Chuny looked affronted. "There's no need to get antsy, Lockhart. All I'm saying is she's causing a whole lot of trouble. I don't know if you've noticed but you can't go into a trauma room these days without there being some poor sucker or other of a doctor nursing a broken heart over that kid. There's some bad vibes around man, and she's at the bottom of most of them". She gestured over towards a table nearby where Ray was sat looking extremely miserable. He looked torn between going over to the bar and taking out Neela's suitors one by one, and on the other hand as if about to sob his eyes out. Next to him Katey, the intern, was glaring a different kind of daggers at Neela, while rubbing weakly at Ray's shoulder. She may as well have not been there at all, however, for all the notice the young doctor seemed to give her.

"She's kind of right you know", Luka pointed out in a tentative voice as they watched Chuny leave, having wished them, rather flatly, a good rest of the night. "About Neela I mean."

Abbey sighed, still a little aggrieved at the loss of her cigarette and more so about the minor confrontation that had just taken place on what was supposed to be her wedding night.

"I know Luka," she admitted grudgingly. "Its just I can't help but want to stick up for her. Its this medieval attitude, and I sure as hell have been on the other end of it myself. Its alright for someone like Ray to sleep around with whoever he likes but as soon as a woman starts to do well for herself and play the field it becomes everyone's business. Its like this dangerous thing that someone's got to put a stop to." She leaned on Luka's shoulder and pouted. "I just wish they'd all frigg off, she doesn't need this."

He put his arms protectively around her shoulders and waist and hugged her tightly, kissing her on the side of her hair that was pressed to him.

"You know what I love about you?" He muttered down to her, and she looked up a smile on her face.  
"Its that you're not like other women. I know why you feel so bound to protect Neela's honour. It's because you see yourself in her." Luka smiled. "You know sometimes I see myself in Neela too."

Abbey smiled at him queerly. "You mean you've been having man trouble too? Why didn't you say anything Luka?"

Luka smiled embarassedly and pushed her away slightly, good naturedly. "Hear me out woman," he chuckled and then looked serious again. "What I mean is, I know what its like to be on the outside of things, an outsider."

Abbey cuddled him. "What are you talking about Luka, you've got hundreds of friends in Chicago."

"I know that, I really do," he assured her, kissing her again on the crown. "But what I'm talking about is culture clash. Neela is currently straddling not two but three continents, do you see what I mean?" Luka swatted her lightly on the shoulder as she smirked at his choice of words. "Seriously," he continued, "I know myself what its like. You come from a background in which your choice of partners is, quite literally sometimes, a matter of life and death, not just for you but for your aunties, your cousins, your next door neighbour...they've all been planning your wedding before you left the womb even... and then suddenly coming to America you find that 'hey! I can do what the hell I like, with whoever I like, every which way.'" (Abbey smirked again. Luka was so cute when he tried to get fruity with the English language!)

"What are you laughing at?" He asked completely obliviously to what he might have said that would cause her to smirk. He continued. "Anyway. I'm just saying. It can be a little overwhelming, and you can find, rather like our friend Neela over there, that sometimes there can be such thing as too much choice."

Luka bowed his head a little. "I'll admit there were a few times there, before I found you again, when I went a little crazy myself. I got involved with women who were entirely inappropriate for me, looking for someone to fill the void, the loneliness. It turned out you were there all along, and...I can't help but feeling guilty that it took me this long to get here," he said his eyes on the floor, a look of real regret in his eyes.

Abbey shook him lightly by the shoulders. "Hey you romantic old fool, snap out of it. This is a wedding remember. Don't go getting all sober on me." She laced her fingers in his and sighed happily. "You're the best person in the world to talk to Dr. Kovac, you know that don't you? You're like the girlfriend I never had growing up." She grinned. "OK enough of this. Lets go over and help ourselves to some of that buffet we fourked out fo-" she stopped mid-sentence. A look of panic clouded over her features as something caught her eye across the reception room. "Jesus, what's he doing?"

Luka looked up and followed her gaze.

From what it looked like, Ray had worked up the courage to finally introduce himself to Neela's 'party' at the bar. However it didn't look like the group were getting off to a great start. In fact, Abbey noticed, the drunken Ray's very gentlemanly approach to protecting the honour of the similarly drunken Dr. Rasgotra seemed to consist of dragging her forcibly away from the group of men, all the while, from the look on his face, chastising her like a child. What had gotten into him?

I think, Abbey concluded to herself dryly, he's maybe had a little bit much of the punch.

Maneesh, apparently the only sober one of the bunch now seemed to step forward and square up to him, not unreasonably perhaps, trying to stop him from manhandling her. Abbey could not hear the conversation that was going on, but she could guess what had been said was not pretty. The surgeon, a sudden look of fury on his face, unexpectedly dealt the ER doctor a blow to the face. Ray reeling from the punch to his jaw, now brandished an empty beer bottle in his hand.

This, thought Abbey with a sick feeling in her stomach, was getting a little out of hand.

When had Ray become so unreasonable? Thought Abbey. He had to know that Maneesh wasn't the type of person to go after Neela: if anything it was the other guys that posed the threat. Ray however, seemed to be acting outside of logic tonight and he wore a terrifying grimace on his face as, his eyes still on his foe, he smashed half the bottle on the table. He raised the shattered remains like a weapon and continued to look menacingly at the Indian surgeon. Then all of a sudden, something catching his eye, his face fell into one of horror.

Crouched on the floor obviously in pain was Neela. She let out a sob of pain.

"Neela!" Abbey screamed, and marched around the scattered chairs and tables towards the scene which was unfolding across the room, Luka in tow.

"Guys, guys... what is going on here? Ray?" demanded Luka sullenly, as the younger doctor wobbled into him. Abbey neeled on the floor beside Neela. She called out to the barman to get a first-aid kit.

"This doesn't look too bad," she murmured. "Bit of a shock hun, I know" Abbey said, giving her friend a little cuddle. "...but its not too deep. We'll just get it cleaned up."

"I must have... it must have been the glass..." Ray slurred and made towards Neela, the gash bleeding profusely on her arm. "Neela," he pleaded with a profound note of anguish in his voice, the gentleness of his character betraying itself.

Luka held him back from her and Abbey got up. "Ray I think you'd best just go..."

Ray staggered forward past her towards Neela. "Neela, let me look at that...Neela, I'm sorry I didn't mean to hit you with the glass...it just-"

"Don't touch me!" cried Neela, leaping backwards in revulsion. In truth, thought Neela, she knew the cut was not so bad. She knew it hadn't been her he had meant to hurt, that it had been an accident. She knew he wasn't usually this violent, scary person. She knew, and this was what the scary thing was, that in a stupid way this was his way of fighting for her, to prove he could protect her, care for her. It was exactly that thought, however, that messed her up, and in her drunken, confused state she simply did not want to deal with any of that. "Just... just go" she whispered.

He looked at her with the saddest eyes Abbey had ever seen on a person. Then, all of a sudden, he seemed to sober up a little, noticing the silence that had descended on the party.

"There's nothing to see," he muttered angrily, and stumbled off into the crowd his head hung like a wounded dog.

As he left Abbey noticed Ray take Morris to the side and, handing him his car keys, quietly requested that the redhead (sober that evening on account of his newfound religion) escort Neela home- and no funny business. Abbey couldn't help but laugh. Men, she thought to herself. They could act like absolute arses one minute, do the most abominable things, and then the next do something so sweet that you forgave them in an instant. Yes Ray had acted really quite shockingly but any fool could see that it was because he was desperately, painfully in love with the woman. And no matter what she did, no matter how many times she pushed him away, he would still face a punch in the jaw rather than have her be in danger, he would sooner hand over the keys to his beloved van to a prize fool before letting her get in a car with someone who'd been drinking. That was love, she thought, that was what she and Luka had, and despite it all she hoped, as she watched Ray stumble off into the night, that one day her two friends could have that too. She gazed into space for a minute.

A voice from the crowd suddenly spoke up. "Lockhart, not that we don't love having you here but when are you going to throw the bouquet, and then bugger off to that fancy suite at the Grande that Luka has booked you?" It was Weaver, and at this everyone seemed to wake up from their shock at what had just happened and began to regain their cheer, looking at each other with amusement at how much of a change a few pints could wring in their usually uptight boss.

"Yeah, Abbey!" quipped Sam from her side. "We've had the mandatory fist-fight... the screwing up of the rings by the best man," she joked and everyone laughed as Carter, in his tux, looked abashed. "Now us girls want to find out who's going to be next for the meringue treatment."

"Oy you," shot Abbey pretending to be offended, "this is Tuile." Everyone laughed again, and Abbey grinned. She had feared that the punch-up would dampen everyone's spirits, but here everyone was, taking it in their strides. This after all was a party drawn largely from people in the ER, for whom not a lot of days went by without the odd crazed gunfight, stabbing or bottling. They'd be laughing about it in the morning, and by the time her and Luka had come back from California, everything would be fine, Ray would be smiling again, Neela would be scowling at his jokes, the universe would be back in place again. She was not about to let their problems overcast her honeymoon. She refused to let that happen.

However, as Luka hoisted her into his arms, bouquet in her hands, and the moment took on that slow-motion sepia feel as her female friends leapt to catch the flowers, she couldn't help notice that there was one girl missing. As Luka kissed her passionately, her eyes flickered open as she noticed a completely unfamiliar blonde man and an all-too familiar dark-haired woman wearing a navy-blue dress, slipping out of the back exit of the room. Morris and the van were nowhere in sight. She swore to herself. Would Ray forgive her if anything happened to Neela? Should she say something, get someone to go after her?

Damn it, thought Abbey. I refuse to let this spoil my special moment.

Luka dumped Abbey very gracefully in the back of the chauffeur driven limo. A cheer went up from the crowd and Luka took a dramatic bow, before closing the door and settling down next to the woman he had been in love with for so long.

This is my happy ending, thought Abbey, forcing a smile for her new husband. I'm going on vacation, I'm wearing a beautiful dress, my hair looks great. So why she muttered to herself, a sinking feeling in her heart for her friend, do I feel like the drama's only just beginning?

* * *

Notes (2) Some of the characters, despite being American, talk like natives of South Manchester, England and use some expressions which might sound a little comical coming from the mouth of, for example, a Chicago-ese person. That's just what comes naturally I'm afraid. Feel free (within reason) to point out to me any such errors. 


End file.
